


Queen of Middle-earth

by faeriesung



Series: Alone Against the World [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9846140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriesung/pseuds/faeriesung
Summary: “Will you marry me, Nerdanel?”The copper haired girl smiled, looking up. Her eyes flashing, playing into a welcoming, but enigmatic expression that Fëanáro could not define.“I am no princess, Fëanáro.”





	

“Will you marry me, Nerdanel?”

The copper haired girl smiled, looking up. Her eyes flashing, playing into a welcoming, but enigmatic expression that Fëanáro could not define.

“I am no princess, Fëanáro.” 

Fëanáro looked back from where he was standing – next to the window of this modest room, on the uppermost level in a corner facing the forest – it was early morning and a storm was raging outside. They would be expected at Mahtan’s workshop shortly, but this was the last thing on Fëanáro’s mind. Nerdanel was still seated in the bed. Her flaming copper hair draped around her shoulder – braids half undone, wild strands of wavy hair loose and jutting out from unraveled braids. Fëanáro found her most beautiful as she was now rather than in her neat braids and tailored-to-fit, intricately decorated formal dress. Fëanáro couldn’t help but lower his gaze – the laces on Nerdanel’s shift were undone, making her fair upper chest bare - still pink with a blush – the silken material rested upon the tips of her breasts, the suppleness of their shape outlined with a tantalizing elegance underneath. Fëanáro mustered every strength in his mind to resist a strong desire to touch them again.

“How would you like to be Queen?”

“Queen of what?” Nerdanel’s smile almost disappeared. She broke her gaze at her lover, brought her hands forward, and promptly began to carefully arrange the laces on the collar of her shift back in place.

“Queen of Middle-earth.”

Nerdanel didn't laugh. Though Fëanáro thought that she might. Instead she gazed up at Fëanáro again, this time intently, but somewhat quizzical, still wearing a little, inscrutable smile. 

“You said so yourself,” Fëanáro said, calmly, but at the back of his mind he noticed that his voice sounded too urgent, even slightly defensive, like a child being questioned. “That you would go to Middle-earth, to fetch the colours of the trees, stones, flowers and living creatures, only to be found on Middle-earth!”

“Yes, I would.” Nerdanel replied. Now, humour has returned to her eyes, making her words seem almost non-committal. A smile played at her lips again. 

Fëanáro approached his lover, leaning down to cup her face in a hand. Nerdanel carded a hand through Fëanáro’s dark hair above his ear in response. They met each other’s eyes once again. Fëanáro’s determined and Nerdanel’s playful yet discerning. 

“I will take you to Middle-earth.” Fëanáro said, in unwavering earnestness.

Nerdanel merely smiled.

It would take a long time before Fëanáro began to learn what her smile meant – that beneath her smile, were hardships never told. Within her, was a belief and conviction that none could alter – to whom she would choose to devote her allegiance. Her smile radiated a cheerful obstinacy – at times, Fëanáro found it exasperating, but her smile reassured him when nothing else would. 

“Build us a ship and we will sail,” Nerdanel said playfully, planting a kiss on her lover’s lips. “If we don’t hurry we might have to do so right away!”

They took each other’s hand and ran into the storm, side by side. Nerdanel burst out laughing at their comical state and their mud-soaked boots and hems, as rain dripped from her hooded coat and strands of soaked copper hair clung to the bridge of her nose and fell across her eyes. The storm obscured Fëanáro’s perceptions but Nerdanel’s soft, warm hand was his only guide. Nerdanel’s laughter rang clear, confident and melodious against the rain and thunder that shrouded them. 


End file.
